Invictus Part Two
by That-Fresh-Rain-Smell
Summary: The second half of my story, Invictus, in which I re-write the harry potter books. Snarry.
1. Chapter 1: Intent

A/N: this chapter is for all of you who waited on me so patiently, and who were disappointed at the shortness of the last chapter of Part One. Especially, I thank for her lovely review, which motivated me to start this today. Reviews are like magical words that will make authors write more; don't forget to send me some!

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Invictus; Part Two

Chapter One: Intent

Harry stood staring at the blood-stained wall, and the words of the poem—prophecy?—began to run in his vision as sorrow at the devastating loss of something he had just found began to turn into an all-consuming rage. Rage, at Voldemort for all the man had taken from him. At himself, for being stupid enough to allow Severus his pride. The rage clouded his mind, drew him deeper towards a place he had never gone before, a maelstrom of hate, anger, and pain.

Words floated to the forefront of his brain as he stood there in silent, shaking rage; _Death is coming for his love…get him back by killing shadows…_

As the words registered and clicked in some part of his brain, Harry began to run. Down, down into the bowels of the castle, where the node of Hogwarts Magic lay. Once there, he drew in the magic of ages; as much as he could hold—more than he could contain. There was no thought behind what he was doing; if yesterday he could have foreseen his actions how, he'd have recoiled in terror. Harrys rage and sorrow overtook him, and the magic he had taken into himself gorged on the emotional tumult.

Intent…

Harry used the magic, seeking out the magical signature of his professor. The space and distance between them no longer mattered; Harrys magical ability was aided by stores of magic from ages past. Seeking, he found the signature, the spark of magic that would reside in Severus until the man died. He was still alive. Something Dark was near him, coiled around the other man, invading him. Harry could not at first understand what was going on. Snapes soul was…dimmed, as though he had passed beyond the veil and hovered dangerously near the edge. _He has little time to seek the shallows_…

Voldemort, or the Yerhn, must be holding Severus at the cusp of death and life. They brought him there…and held him.

A new burst of rage rocked through Harry, and before he had a chance to think, magic whirled around him—through him—and his intent to see Voldemort and the Yerhn destroyed utterly passed from his thoughts and into the magic before he knew what was happening.

Desperate, with sudden terror cooling his rage, Harry attempted to recall the magic; to gain control of it. But the powerfully large force of magic he had called upon had fed off of his emotions; rage and sorrow, intent at destruction of the perpetrators, had given the magic a will of its own. Harrys fear grew as he reached back inside the magic, searching once again for Severus. The intensity of the magic had grown, forged by his own strong emotions, and this time rather than feeling the other mans presence, he was there.

Very suddenly he was no longer in the bowels of a relatively warm castle, but a cold stone courtyard next to a man who seemed to by dead or dying. Dropping to his knees, he began touching the other mans throat and face, begging.

"No, no please, you can't…you can't DIE!" Harry screamed, completely unaware of the other man standing not five paces away.

"Decided to throw the world to the dogs for him, Potter?" a soft, amused voice asked. Harry looked up to see Voldemort, standing stationary with the strangest smile on his face.

"What are you on about?" Harry snapped, moving protectively in front of Severus. The older man chuckled softly, and in the voice Harry heard something darker; something inhuman.

"Didn't you read the prophecy, Potter? '_Lose the world to save another/Lose a life to life recover.'_" Harrys heart stopped at the sudden implication. He hadn't registered all of the poem; just the important bits. Severus…

"It's just a poem, not a prophecy!" He screamed, willing it to be true. Voldemort slowly shook his head.

"It's a…dark, you would say…a dark prophecy. And if I am not completely mistaken, you have used the magic of Hogwarts, coupled with intention, to see me destroyed." Voldemort seemed inordinately pleased with this outcome.

"Why does it matter? You'll be gone! That's a good thing!" Harry was desperately trying to think, to figure out how the magic he had created could have a negative affect.

"Ah, Potter…no one ever taught you balance, did they? You've thrown the entire world out of balance by utterly destroying a creature of pure magic…a strong creature of magic. What powers will rise in my wake? What darkness will seek to consume the living, at this unprecedented opportunity? What forces of light will work towards stopping it? What harm will it wreck for the humans? Ah…Potter. I owe you my deepest gratitude." As the Dark Lord spoke, the magic Harry had released began to consume the taller man, until only his words of thanks drifted on the air. The magic, having done his bidding, dissipated, leaving Harry with a man who was yet trapped between life and death.

"No…no, he's wrong!" Harry shouted to the empty air. Forcing his concentration back to the man lying before him, he focused harder than he ever had before; saying the words that would allow him to pass through the veil between life and death, saying the words that bespoke the only way to give the man before him a chance again at life.

* * *

"Severus!" Harry exclaimed as the other man opened one bleary eye and fixed him with a glare.

"Whats going on, Potter?" Harry looked down.

"Remember, how we've agreed that I'm going to vanquish the Dark Lord by sheer stupidity? I've done it. Sheer stupidity." Snape sat up and looked around, assessing the situation.

"How?" He asked, pinning the young man with a look that brooked no arguments.

"I mean it. SHEER stupidity. I…I used the magic of the node, to find you, and when I saw…when I saw you were between life and death, I got even more angry. The magic…it was like it had a life of its own. It _stole_ my intent, my emotions, and it…killed Voldemort. And the Yerhn." As Harry spoke, Snape became more pale than he had been; which is saying something since he'd just rejoined the living.

"You used…you used awesomely powerful intention magic to destroy the Dark Lord, and the Yerhn?" He clarified, and Harry hung his head.

"Yes. I…Voldemort said that I've disrupted the balance of the world, and that worse things will come, that I've thrown the world into a darkness greater than his. But he was just trying to bait me…right?" Snape stood, feeling more unsteady and…well, terrified, than he had ever felt in his long life.

"We'll see. Potter," he grabbed the young man by the shoulders, "I need you to tell me _exactly_ what happened." Harry nodded and began his story, bringing several revival potions out of his pockets for his professor as he did so. As the boy continued, Snape found himself not only fascinated, but dumbfounded. He sat on one of the benches surrounding the courtyard, imbibing the potions Harry gave him as a ruse to compose his thoughts and face as the story continued.

"…So then, when I saw the writing on the wall, I knew." Harry paused, and Snape—who had not heard the last bit—started.

"You knew what, Potter?" He snapped. Harry just looked at him.

"I knew I was in love with you." He said simply. Snape looked blankly at him for a moment, before he came up with a believable scoff.

"Finish the story, Potter, with as little theatrics as possible." Harry shrugged and continued, hiding his hurt.

Once the full of the tale had been told, Snape stood and grabbed Harry.

"I need to see this prophecy. Lets go." Harry worried his lip and nodded, restraining himself from asking if he'd just doomed mankind, praying that he had not.

* * *

Snape was staring at the wall where the blood spelled out Harrys crime, immobile. Harry fidgeted in the background, finally unable to contain himself.

"Well?" Snape started, as though he had forgotten Harrys presence. He turned slowly around, a rage so lethal leaking from his eyes that Harry stumbled as he backed away involuntarily.

"Get out, Potter." The mans voice could not hold more contempt, more loathing.

"But—" Harry stuttered, looking scared and worried.

"Do you know what you have done? Do you realize, do you even comprehend…! OUT, POTTER! And don't let me see that puling adolescent face again!" Harry ran, ran from the room and from his sudden, crushing guilt. Snape slammed the door behind him and promptly began raging around the room, destroying his own property.

_Foolish BOY!_ He screamed mentally, unable to grasp the pure vastness of the mistake fully.

_He did it for YOU…_ a voice in his mind whispered, which only encouraged his rage.

_Idiot! I'm not worth the world…I'm not worth a grain of it! IDIOT BOY! _His rage had begun to feed off his magic, and lest he do something similarly stupid, he began to reign himself in.

What would they do? Potter had traded a destructive force centralized in Britain for an unknown, unpredictable worldly battle that would incorporate the fates, furies, sorrow, malady, justice, truth, destruction…it could begin a battle for life itself. The destruction of the balance in taking away a dark entity—the Yerhn—had created a vacuum, a place where _anything_ could—and would!—happen. Dumbledore would—

_Dumbledore! He explained these things to Harry! What did he say…?_

"_So that you would know, my boy. So that you would know."_ Could the older man have known this was to occur? Surely, had Albus known he would have done all within his power to prevent it. Unless…

_Unless it was necessary. Unless it HAD to occur, for fear of a greater danger. What had the old man known?_ The rage and despair slinked away from him, leaving him feeling cold and numb.

_Dear gods,_ Severus thought as he slumped into his armchair. _What happens now?_

* * *

Harry was sitting in the Astronomy Tower, looking at the stars. His thoughts whirled in his mind as he went over all he knew about elementals, creatures of magic, and what might be on the horizon. All the things Dumbledore had told him of.

Dumbledore…

Harry recalled the memory vividly, wondering still what the older man had meant. "_So that you would know, my boy…"_ Had the older man knew what would happen? He must have, it seemed obvious now. So why hadn't he attempted to stop it? Why had Dumbledore just allowed Harry to…

_Maybe it was necessary. To prevent something worse? Had it been the better of two poor options? _ Harry didn't know, but he felt comforted by the fact that Dumbledore, it seemed, didn't find the prospect of what Harry had done overly alarming.

But what if _Dumbledore_ was wrong? Harrys thoughts turned to prophecy.

_Neither can live while the other survives….The boy with the scar/born under North Star/will decide the fate of the earth. Given his way/he will destroy and create/and all life, the chance at rebirth. Beware his intent/for magic once spent/cannot return to its holder. If the boy chooses wrong/the night will be long/ever-after a world of disorder…_ _Lose the world to save another/Lose one life to life recover/Known in ancient skies above/The boy will choose his selfish love/And the world shudders as it weeps/What the darkness takes, the darkness keeps._

The prophecy from North Star never actually said that his intention magic would cause destruction. It only said to be wary of destruction. In fact, that prophecy could even be said to encourage his intention magic. What if Harry _hadn't_ done it? The prophecy could easily be saying that destruction and death would occur if Harry _didn't_ use the magic to save Severus. But the last prophecy…it couldn't be more clear. _Lose one life/to life recover_. Sacrifice Severus, save the world. Let him die. Or save him, and doom mankind.

_But that's a dark prophecy. It's…what did North Star say? Prophecy is a guide…so it's a guide for the minions of darkness…right?_ Harry thought.

Disgusted with the vague, uncertain and useless prophesies, Harry shoved all thoughts of them away. _I don't need prophecy, I have free will. All prophecy has ever done for me is bind me tighter than I could possibly bind myself_, he thought angrily, and was startled to hear a disembodied laugh echo through the tower.

"Who's there?" Harry asked warily, standing and pulling free his wand.

"It is I, Harry Potter." The familiar voice that sounded and felt like cold light between years of darkness echoed from behind him, and he turned around to see North Star.

"What…Why are you here?" He asked hesitantly. Her face morphed into something that, on a human woman, would have been a kind smile, but on this inhuman….star, it looked distinctly out of place, even alien.

"I am here, Harry Potter, because you have learned something valuable tonight. And because I am your guide." Harry nodded dumbly, and the Star continued. "Tonight, you have acted on pure impulse, on emotion, without reason or restraint. You have killed the monster that has terrorized you, and your people, for a long while. You are to be congratulated." Harry, who had been wincing and preparing for a severe reprimand, looked up in surprise.

"But, I might have disrupted the balance of the world! I may have unknowingly forsaken mankind!" He protested. Strangely, she nodded agreement.

"This is true. But think for me, Harry Potter. Wouldn't a Yerhn, a creature of dark intent growing into its full power, also have upset the balance?" Harry looked at her blankly, and then nodded.

"It is so. The events in prophecy do not negate your free will, Harry Potter. It may be true that, had you not acted as you did tonight, you would have found another way to vanquish your enemy before it could disrupt the balance, and your male friend would be dead, but the world restored. It is true that you may not have found a way, and the balance would be ruined, the world in chaos, and you would not have your man with you. There are many paths towards the final end, and prophecy is a guide towards whatever end is favorable to the one who speaks it. Do you understand, Harry Potter?" Harry stared at her for a moment.

"You're saying that, my free will is a large aspect of what will happen next, and that prophecy doesn't so much as tell the future, but outline possible future events. And that, with my free will, comes responsibility. I can't say that my actions are the fault of prophecy, or even Dumbledore. My choices are my own, and come with their own consequences. You're saying that, in this instance, I might have been wrong to do what I did, but then again, it might have been my best possible course of action. And…and your saying that life is far more complicated than fault and blame, even more complicated than action and reaction." North Star bowed her head to him.

"Correct, Harry Potter. I hope, for all our sakes, that it was indeed the right decision. Until the next crossroads in time…" She faded out, and he waved at her.

"Thank you," He whispered, feeling a great sense of understanding settle over him.

* * *

Severus Snape did not expect to find Potter sitting outside of his room, though he most likely should have. Growling, he turned on his heel and began to walk away from the boy.

"Severus, wait!" Harry called, running after him. "I have some things to tell you, before this meeting! Please!" He ran to catch up, calling one last desperate plea as his other words were ignored. "I met North Star again!" Snape stopped abruptly and turned, staring at the slightly out of breath youth.

"Go on, Potter, but make it quick." Harry explained as quickly as possible, starting with his thoughts on Dumbledore. Snape, looking suddenly weary, sighed.

"She is right, of course. We had better explain that to the Order before we explain what you have done." Harry beamed as his professor said 'we', implying that they were once again on the same side.

"I agree. Look, could you please move your rooms to somewhere inside the warded half of the castle?" Snape blinked at the sudden change of topic, then smirked.

"Of course, Potter. I would never have thought of it on my own." He snapped, and Harry sighed in relief, ignoring the bite.

"Good, lets get on to this meeting."

* * *

After Harry and Severus had told the adjourned members their story, the great hall was more silent than Harry had ever heard it; even the air seemed to be more still.

He looked around at those assembled, his thoughts and emotions tumbling behind his tightly controlled exterior. The entire Weasley family was there; they'd made it safely, somehow. Sirius, Lupin, Tonks, Kingsley, Moody, Hermione, Draco, Luna, Lucius…everyone who lead a specific force or resistance was there. What they had begun referring to as the 'foot soldiers' were dispersed through the castle, and even in their own homes, awaiting orders. Finally, after a very long silence and collective breath, Hermione spoke up.

"Well, at least now what we're fighting isn't targeted directly at us." She said, and some others laughed briefly.

"I think we should all take the next few months to study and prepare," she continued boldly. "Half of us don't quite understand what we're up against, and most of us probably don't know how to counter whatever gets thrown at us. What we need is more information." Other members began to nod, even as Fred and George elbowed each other and whispered loudly about Hermione's suspicious obsession with books.

"I agree with Miss Granger's assessment. I suggest we hold a conclave in a weeks' time to discuss what we have found so far." Snape said, as others nodded or voiced their agreement. Hermione gasped.

"Professor! I suggested a few months! A week will hardly—"

"Miss Granger, I suspect we do not have much longer than a week before our combined knowledge will be forced into action. I suggest you consider this matter to be as grave as if NEWT's were a mere week away." Snape interrupted, smirking. Hermione gasped again and let out an incredibly un-Hermione-like curse before running from the room, the echo of her muttering lost in a roar of laughter.

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A/N: Thoughts? Opinions? This is about as far as I've gotten in my specific-planning (generally, I've the whole thing outlined) So I'm not sure what to do, next. I need that magical thing called REVIEWS to power my exhausted brain. Please please please?


	2. Chapter 2: The Eye of the Storm

A/N: Many thanks to those who reviewed chapter one; re-reading those reviews is what inspired my writing on this, tonight. If anyone would like to pop on over to Part One and review it…three times (or three people review it) you'll have bumped the reviews to 200, which would please me to NO end. Also, I kinda held out on writing this chapter because I was getting annoyed that, by the scores people are adding this story to their alerts and favorites, but very few people are reviewing. Because of this, I won't update on a chapter until I have at least 4 insightful reviews each time (Which, really, shouldn't be a problem because there's MORE than 4 of you who consistently review with lovely insights. I'm just giving myself a number so I don't hold out on chapters again when 6 reviews for one chapter come in several days after the update.) So, there you have it. Hope all of you enjoy this; I know I'm going to.

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Chapter Two: The Eye of the Storm

Harry Potter was quite hard to dissuade—at least, once he had decided something. As a child he had decided that his hair was not worth the effort of grooming, and to this day he continued to ignore it. Whole scores of childhood books had gone unread once he had decided upon his favorites, and entire legions of perfectly acceptable tee shirts had gone unused once he had decided that Snape liked him best in dark red or black. Harry Potter might be irrational in this particular area, but it made him singularly hard to ignore—which was why Severus Snape was having such a spectacularly hard job of getting rid of him.

Sitting at his work desk in his private quarters, Snape read studiously from a book in an attempt to dissuade the young man pacing his chambers from bothering him. Looking fully engrossed in the book, but unable to truly concentrate, he watched the young man from the corners of his eyes as Harry paced like a caged lion. Finally, the young man halted his pacing and faced the desk.

"You're not fooling me. When I came down wanting to talk, you asked if you could finish that chapter first, but you've been turning pages far too quickly for you to have really read them. Please quit it. What I have to say is important." Snape glared as he shut the book, rising and placing his palms on the desk in front of him.

"What do you have to say, Potter?" he groused, completely ignoring the fact that the young man had been naked and at his bidding not too long ago. Harrys eyes flashed, but the anger soon melted against the hard resolve, unable to maintain in the face of such determination. Harry slowly walked around the desk until Snape was forced to turn towards him in order to face him. The young man stopped about a foot from the older, staring at him for a minute before responding.

"I've learned a lot about myself in the past few days, Severus." The other man hissed, but Harry ignored it as he continued.

"I know I'm in love with you. I know I want to be with you, and I know that it's something I want regardless of the war, age difference, or public opinion. And I absolutely refuse to be pushed away by you, to be treated like an irritation, a student, or any number of other things. I can't assume to say how you feel about me, but I know you at least care for me, and I'm more than willing to wait things out and see if you feel more." At this moment, Harry faltered, and he wet his lips and looked away before again meeting the hard eyes of his impassive professor and continuing on.

"I'm yours. I know maybe you can't or won't say the same to me, but that's it. That's the truth of it; I'm yours." When Snape opened his mouth to respond, Harry could see the words before they were spoken, and interrupted the man.

"And if you say _anything_ about how I'm confused, or under the wrong impression, or being influenced by the war and other events in my—or our—past, I will spend the rest of my life proving you wrong, each and every day, through sheer persistence of the matter." Harrys tone was deadly serious, and it stopped Severus' yet-unspoken words in their tracks.

For once lost for words, the older man stood utterly still as Harry closed the distance between them and reached up to run his fingers lightly through his professors hair. "You're never going to be rid of me, Severus. And I have all the time in the world to remind you of the fact, over and over, as many times as it takes. _Never_ going to be rid of me." Finally able to move, Snape grabbed Harry roughly by the hips and pulled him closer, smashing their bodies together and positioning his mouth next to Harrys ear.

"Prove it, Potter." He growled, half afraid that the boy would do just that. Harrys' hands roamed across his back as he groaned, rocking forward against the older mans' leg.

"I will, every day." Harry said forcefully, determination evident in every feature as his hands found and released the buttons of Severus' robe, shoving it off of his shoulders.

For a second, Harry stepped back, examining the man standing in his white button-down shirt, black waistcoat and black slacks. Severus Snape looked rather vulnerable without the dark, heavy robes to add to his menacing form, and for a second Harry was overwhelmed with fear of rejection, of being left behind—or worse, of Severus' death, which had come so close too many times.

"Gods—" Harry choked, and a decided unease swept through the other man, standing and feeling much more than half-undressed. Would Harry change his mind so soon? It would serve him right, playing these kinds of games with the boy-who-lived. He began to firmly reprimand himself for his sudden weakness, but Potters next words abruptly halted his thoughts.

"There's so much—" Harry coughed and then continued, still staring at his professors' body. "There's so much I want to do—to learn—with you and about you. And I'm so afraid…Gods, Severus. You're beautiful." Harrys hands reached up and began to unbutton the waistcoat, more slowly now, as though a measured pace was the best way to get a slow, steadily growing view of the other mans' skin.

Snape stood immobile, disbelieving. Had Harry Potter just called him _beautiful?_ Surely not. Everyone knew that Severus Snape was ugly as sin. Obviously too many nights scrubbing cauldrons had gotten to the boys brain. Certainly that was it. Severus felt the cool air against the skin of his back as his shirt was discarded, and he chose to remain still in favor of watching the sheer adoration on Harrys face as the boy explored his upper body with his hands and eyes.

When Harry pressed himself against Snape and began exploring the expanse of exposed skin with his mouth, he was delighted to hear the soft, restrained sounds of pleasure emitting from the older man. Once he had explored every spot he could reach from where he was, he looked up into those dark, now unreadable eyes and licked his lips.

"Maybe…Maybe it's asking too much, too soon, but…If you want to…Make love to me?" The request was fraught with undertones that neither of them were quite ready to address. The echo of the night in the graveyard reverberated in the space between them, questions of sadomasochism, love—both unacknowledged and firmly declared—and the unknown were all raised in the aftermath of Harrys' words, and for a second the boy looked ready to take them back. But the sheer vulnerability etched into Harry's features—which only moments ago had bespoken fierce determination—undid the man in front of him. Throwing all unspoken and unaddressed things to the wind, he reached for Harry shirt and nearly tore it off in order to grasp the tanned shoulders and draw the boy to him.

"Merlin, yes." He growled as he smashed their lips together, and smirked against Harrys' mouth as the boy groaned and swayed under the kiss, reaching for Severus' hips to steady himself.

"Never going to get rid of me," Harry insistently panted between harsh kisses as Snapes' hands clawed his back.

"Good," Snape growled back, exploring the soft skin of the boys' throat and nearly coming undone at the noises emitting from him.

"Because I don't intend to allow you to leave."

* * *

Harry woke up in Severus' bed, half afraid he would be unceremoniously kicked out. Looking at the other mans' face, he saw Snape was watching him with what looked to be guarded trepidation. Smiling slowly, Harry inched up the bed (he had managed to curl up near the foot of it, somehow, during the night) and pressed his body against Snapes', nuzzling the hollow of the mans' throat.

"Good morning," he said happily, already intoxicated by the other mans' scent and quickly becoming aroused at the feeling of his naked flesh against his own. Smirking, all trepidation leaving his gaze, Snape caught Harrys wandering hands in his own.

"Insatiable boy." He tsked as he rolled over and pinned Harrys' wrists to the bed. Harry grinned and wriggled under him, twisting his wrists and trying to break free.

"Can't help it," he admitted as the other man began to bite the soft skin of his neck. Gasping, he managed to add, "Let me go!" he squirmed, trying to free his wrists, but to no avail. He wanted to touch Snape, feel the older mans' response to him. He sought to press one of his legs between the legs of the other man, but Snape had them pinned and he was unable to gauge the mans' arousal.

"No," Snape rasped, smirking into his ear, before muttering a wandless spell that bound Harrys wrists in rope to the bed.

Defiance and desire burned twofold in the boys' eyes as he cried foul, but Snape ignored him as he continued to delightfully debauch the boy-who-lived-to-squirm-in-Snapes-bed. _Oh, yes_, he thought to himself. _I could indeed become used to this._

* * *

Hermione Granger was becoming increasingly defensive of Harry. Contemplating the recent events, she decided in no uncertain terms that Harry loved Snape, and that Snape—however unobtrusively—loved Harry. Because of this, she worried constantly over Harrys ability to begin a relationship with the ever-cautious Snape. This is why, the night after Harrys own foray into the dungeons, Hermione Granger set out to talk to Severus Snape, herself.

Making her way down to the dungeons and finding Snapes quarters with some help of the Marauders Map, filched from Harrys chest, she grew increasingly more resolved. Once she stood outside the mans' door, she began to feel as though, even if it came to shouting and unforgivables, she would indeed convince Snape to listen to Harry. And then of course, she'd need to convince Harry to speak to Snape.

Now, had she spared more than a glance at the Marauders Map, she would have known that Harry was, indeed, already in the quarters on the other side of the door. Due to a rather interesting mix of an inkwell and Harrys' inability to quit laughing, the small dot naming Severus Snape had been directly on top of the dot naming Harry Potter, and thus, on the Map, Severus Snape had looked to be alone in the living room of his quarters.

Without knocking, Hermione burst into the room to find Snape sitting on the couch, half undressed and rather disheveled. Utterly unaware of the implications of the mans' appearance, she immediately launched into a tirade about Harry, catching Snape quite off-guard. As her rant became more and more detailed, Snapes face transformed from startled shock to scarce-concealed hilarity. Realizing that something was out of place, Hermione let her words run down as Harry emerged from the bathroom with his torso covered in something that looked to be blue dye, and his face burning red from embarrassment.

"Oh," she said, unable to think of anything more substantial at that precise moment.

"It appears as though your friend is concerned for you, Harry." Snape said, tone rife with amusement.

"Thanks 'mione, but I think we've got it pretty well worked out," Harry mutter, blush deepening to encompass his throat.

"Oh Harry, I'm _sorry!_ I was just getting so worried—" Harry waved her off, grinning.

"S'all right Hermione, I know. And thank you. But I kinda came down here last night and said pretty much the same thing." He admitted, blush still not receding as Snape snorted.

"Yes, except Mr. Potter is of course failing to mention that he _stayed_ the night, and there's certainly no call for—what did you say, miss Granger?—'drastic measures'." Snape pointed out, letting Hermione know in no uncertain terms that the older man had assented to Harrys' insistence on the matter.

"And what Severus is failing to mention is that he managed to throw blue ink on me in an attempt to get rid of me—I call _that_ a drastic measure."

"I didn't need to _throw_ the ink on you, Mr. Potter; you managed to get it all over yourself without my help."

"Just because I find your stories about gwindylows hilarious, doesn't give you the right to levitate the couch while I'm writing lists of—" Both men stopped bickering as Hermione dissolved into giggles, staring at her as though she'd gone mad.

"I—I'm sorry," she gasped, "You just—you two fuss like an old married couple!" Chagrin, the two men looked at her and then at each other before slow grins stole over their faces.

"Hermione, with how you talk to Draco, you're not allowed to laugh," Harry pointed out, with Snape nodding disgusted agreement. Hermione's laughter died down as she grinned at the two.

"I know, but it's nice to see things worked out. Now Harry, you do realize that a simple cleaning spell would work a lot better than a bar of soap on that ink?"

* * *

The next week set into a comfortable—and almost blissful—pattern. Harry moved his things back into Severus' quarters, and the two of them spent nearly-quiet days together, researching, talking, planning, and—of course—devouring one another at every opportunity. While Snape felt the sinking sensation that such pleasure could not last, he for once ignored such pessimism and managed to enjoy himself rather thoroughly. And although the two of them _did_ manage to get into some rather passionate screaming matches once or twice, the intensity of the arguments did have the tendency to lead to rather incredibly sex.

Harry spent the week feeling as though he had never known happiness more profound, and fearing the worst for its possible demise. But every time he began to brood too heavily, Snape would come up with a new idea about correcting the magical balance, and his fears would be unreasonably reassured by the fact that he _had_ Snape, at least for now. Perhaps, he thought, that was enough. He hoped it was.

When the week ended, and the day of the conclave arrived, Harry felt unexpectedly saddened. Their period of grace had ended, and no matter what happened now, the effort of correcting the magical imbalance would need to take precedence over their personal lives. However, the relationship he had formed with Severus and the weeks' time they had been granted to affirm it, gave him a feeling of empowerment that hardened his resolve and helped him face the future unflinching. Over and over, he reminded himself; _At least I have had this_. And over and over, he knew that it was worth it—it was all worth it.

* * *

A/N: Sorry it's so short. I wanted to give them a time of grace to firm a relationship—finally!—but didn't have much to write beyond the sexing and the speech Harry gives Snape. Hope you liked it, anyway. :P


	3. Chapter 3: Imbalance

Chapter Three: Imbalance

The conclave was as hectic and crazy and one might expect. Two weeks prior, when they had told the Order members what had conspired the night of Voldemorts death, the two men had left out the reasons for Harry's sudden and drastic use of intention magic. After much arguing, Harry had finally won Severus over to the idea that everyone needed to know all possible information, and with this in mind he stood to address the assembled witches and wizards.

"Hello everyone. Our last meeting was rushed and, because of this, not everyone had all of the same information. I'd like to take a moment to bring everyone up to speed, and afterwards if anyone has anything else to add, I'd like to hear it." The witches and wizards around the long table fell silent as Harry spoke, and he grew nervous as all eyes turned to him, waiting. He took a deep breath. Hopefully this would go over better than he was beginning to think.

"Two years ago, I began to be interested in Severus Snape. And by interested, I mean to say I was attracted to him." He paused, knowing there would be an instant uproar. Some of those at the table already knew, but several teachers looked ill, and the Weasleys were all especially upset, save for Fred and George, who were hooting and cat calling. But of course, Fred and George had the surpassingly astonishing ability to take nearly everything in stride and turn it into a joke.

When there was once again quiet, Harry continued. "Severus, of course, refused me." He glanced at the other man, who was wearing a disinterested mask, not even looking at him. "But, well, I am known to be rather persistent, and I managed to convince him my interests were serious. Our relationship thereon was of course very private. But all of you should know that Voldemort and whatever was inside him captured Severus in an attempt to provoke me." He looked down, gathering his thoughts while the others worked through what he was saying. The entire thing was almost too ludicrous to believe.  
"They succeeded." Harry continued. "Upon finding that Severus was gone, I lost control of myself and my magic. It was this which caused my use of intention-magic, and it was this that destroyed Voldemort, as well as whatever dwelled within him."

"So, are you telling us, mate," Fred began.

"That you vanquished the dark lord—" George continued.

"—by falling in love with _Snape_?" They both finished, before falling into a fit of loud laughter. The comedy of the situation drained the tension in the room, and Harry smiled at the twins, thanking them silently for their comedic relief, although he noticed that Snape did not looked amused.

"More or less, yeah. The Yhearn warned me that there would be a great upheaval of magic, massive destruction and imbalance. Now that everyone is up to speed on exactly what happened, I'd like to discuss what has actually been happening since I killed Voldemort and the Yhearn." Luna stood immediately, smiling brightly at Harry and indicating that he should take his seat. Relieved, Harry sat with a sigh as eyes turned towards Luna—though many of them were still darting between Harry and Severus, still trying to process the recent news.

"Thank you Harry. I've opened correspondence between other wizarding centrals around the world, and in the past week I have been able to determine that there _is_ an imbalance in the world of magic, a kind of flux between what we would consider light and dark forces." She looked around, making sure that all eyes were finally upon her, before continuing.

"As far as I've been able to discover, in every wizarding part of the world I've been able to contact there has been a massive resurgence of evil forces and manifestations. America is plagued most strongly by beasts and demons, though the bloody gods of the Aztecs have found a resurgence of believers, and sacrifices are spreading as far as the east coast. China has seen devastation on the form of face stealers and soul eaters. Austrailia suffers from something terrible; creeping insanity widespread across the population. One week they are sane, and the next…" Luna sighed, looking back at the horrified faces in front of her. "In Africa, people are dying in mysterious and brutal ways. Suspicion is mounting between peoples and black magic is being worked by nearly everyone to combat their supposed enemies." The young woman pushed her glasses farther up her nose.

"I have made a full report, one copy for everyone, and it would be good if everyone were to read and think for a while on these things. England, as you may have heard, is still within the grips of remaining death eaters, fear and anger are rampant, and famine has begun appear in some areas. There are rumors of other things…worse things…but nothing has been confirmed. I believe we should all exchange information, and then spend another week or two collaborating on what to do—at least, what to do here in England." Everyone agreed quietly, overwhelmed by the enormity of the situation. Luna passed out her reports, then stepped down to allow someone else to speak.

* * *

Harry sat on Severus' couch three hours later, reading through the rather hefty report of both confirmed and unconfirmed stories. It seemed as though every place on Earth was afflicted with its own personal form of darkness, and while many types overlapped (demons, ghouls, beasts, gods), many were specific to the region. Harry had never considered that his own brand of magic was—well—very British. He hadn't realized that other people in other parts of the world practiced magic differently, or tied magic into a religious belief system.

Christians, for example, used a weak form of intention magic known as prayer. It wasn't as effective, since Christians tended to be muggles, and perhaps one out of a thousand of them were able to actually work magic, but the few times it did work kept the religion full of miracles, thus keeping the religion strong as a whole. And beliefs have their own power, after all, just as Dumbledore had told him. Beliefs could even create reality, for just one or even many people.

Lunas report was extensive. Since Hogwarts didn't have many classes which took a world view, she included a list and brief explanation of the religious beliefs of the people in all the different regions, as well as an explanation of their brand of magic and whether or not it was tied to the religious beliefs of the people. Wizarding Britain was so ancient that it was practically a different country from the actual Britain, so the wizards and muggles didn't mix on a religious standpoint. India, however, while ancient, mixed muggles and wizards together. While most of their country practiced Hinduism, the religion itself prospered wizards because magicians were a part of their belief system as a whole. Thus wizards did not need to hide, but there was very little organization of the wizard population, and while many of them became monks and followed the way of the Raja Yoga, or experimental path, and became gurus or holy men, others practiced their own paths without ever realizing their magic.

America was one of the most confusing. Since it held so many different types of people, all from different ethnic backgrounds, it was a polyglot of beliefs and practices. There were many magical practitioners outside of religion, like Britain, but there were many more that chose to tie their practice to deities.

Harry read everything, utterly absorbed as his mind expanded tenfold. Some people practiced magic with objects, but only some parts of Europe and America used wands. Many, many people used intention magic—knowingly or not—with varying degrees of success. Others used a focus—in the same way Harry used a wand—but spoke nonverbal spells.

The whole picture, however, was that every culture and region had a form of magic slightly different than the last, and every group of organized magic-users had their own special area of expertise. Harry looked up from his reading to see Severus flipping through the pages of Lunas report, scanning but not reading it the way Harry was.

"Did you know all this?" Harry asked, incredulous. No one had ever once mentioned to him anything like this, until Dumbledore had brought up that strange, one-sided conversation. And even then, Dumbledore hadn't been very specific.

"Mmm?" Snape seemed to have found something interesting, and he didn't look up at Harrys question.

"_This_, all these religions, and different types of magic, and people…" Severus finally looked up, and Harry saw that the other man was looking at him strangely.

"Potter, it takes _seven years_ for you students to learn the most basics of British magic. Why in the world would we teach you other kinds while you're trying to learn the simplest things?" Harry spluttered.

"But—I didn't even _know_ that other magic existed! Other beliefs! Surely someone might have told us."

"They do," Snape waved dismissively. "In muggle studies." Harry sank back on the couch, utterly perplexed at having missed knowing about something so huge. Hermione, who was the only one he knew to have taken muggle studies, must not have told him because she thought it was obvious. And in hindsight, it _was_ obvious.

"And people are just—I dunno—_content_ to only learn British magic and stay in Britain?" he asked, exasperated. Severus finally looked up and gave him his full attention, realizing that Harry had just learned something pivotal.

"Generally, the people who can afford it take several years to travel after they attend Hogwarts, and learn about other types of magic in a broad but not deep sense. Those who can't afford it either stay here and settle down, or get a job with the ministry or media which requires work abroad in order to get the same experience. People who _really_ find it fascinating get jobs that allow them to both travel and study their environs." Harry still looked dumbfounded, but the explanation had mollified him a bit.  
"I can't believe you weren't aware of any of this, Potter. This just proves how detrimental it is to spend so much time focusing on your broomstick." Harry rolled his eyes, sensing no real malice in the rebuff.

"Oh yes, my broomstick," he muttered. Severus snorted, and Harry smiled. He quite enjoyed making Severus laugh, even if it was only really a snort.

Harrys returned to reading the report, and his feelings soon turned from academic fascination into horror. For every aspect of all that was good in humanity—Love, hard word, dedication, strength, honor, duty—there seemed to be a manifestation for the opposite in every part of the Earth. Demons, of course, but also Bakhtak, Wendigos, Tezcatlipoca and what seemed to be hundreds of other manifestations of greif, hatred, jealousy, rage, sloth, and immorality.

And all of these things were currently ravaging the world. Insidious spirits and thoughts; slow insanity; the twisting of loved one against loved one; death; destruction; desolation. Some of the spirits listed merely infected their prey with total apathy, causing them to lie down and die a slow death of starvation. Others took over a person's body, like the Yhren had, and slowly ate away at their soul until there was nothing left. Whole wizarding towns had gone suddenly off the map; not just the people, but their homes and businesses as well. No one knew where they had gone, and there was no trace of magic in the area to suggest they'd done so willingly.

In Britain, which was a much smaller community compared to places like America or Africa, the Death Eaters still infested the ministry, causing their own form of mayhem, and all types of demons and spirits were stalking the folk of the wizarding and muggle worlds. But the worst thing wasn't all the information coming in about a missing husband, a dead granddaughter, or an insane shopkeep. The worst thing, as Luna pointed out, was the lack of information from any of the wizards north of Derby. There had been not a sound from the northern half of Britain, and anyone who went searching for word soon ended up missing, themselves.

"How are we supposed to fix _this_?" Harry asked in despair, looking up to see that Severus had taken out a different book, and was now reading that.

"As I recall, you're the savior of the wizarding world…I suppose you never considered that the wizarding world isn't located solely in Britain." Snape drawled, seeming unconcerned.

"How can you not _care?"_ Harry yelled, standing and throwing the report on the ground. "This is horrible! People are dying and disappearing and having their souls stolen and all you can do is make some kind of snide _joke_?" Snape was standing now, too, and glaring at Harry just as he used to, when he had loathed the younger man.

"There is no _joke_, Potter. But if you think this will be one of your quick fixes, something you can wave your _feelings_ at and resolve, you'd better think again." Snape was towering over him now, and Harry couldn't help shivering in anticipation, regardless of how angry he was. "You're right, this is larger and more complex a problem than either of us had thought to deal with. But if you think I'm taking it lightly because I feel like taunting you, you're more idiotic than I took you for. This war will be _long_, and it won't be about us fighting other humans casting spells, it will be the entirety of humanity up against the reflections of their darkest selves." Severus was glaring down at him, and Harry took a step back.

"If that's true, then how can you be so calm?" He demanded, glaring defiantly.

"I'm _calm_, Potter, exactly because this war will be long. You've never been in a long war, you do not know that sometimes it is tedious, or dull, or goes for long stretches without anything happening. It's no use getting yourself worked into a fever while there's nothing to actually face, nothing you can, at the moment, _do_." Harry stared for a long time before dropping his gaze. The other man seemed to need no other concessions, and sat down once again on the couch.

"Not to mention, the things we'll be facing won't often have a corporeal form or directive, which means that they aren't targeting you, or anyone, directly. It won't be a war as you think it will; no sides lining up prettily and marching to face each other." The older man raised his eyebrows at Harry, who blushed, as he had honestly imagined something like that.

"These things will come when a person is alone, or vulnerable. Not when there is an army at their back. That means we will at some point need to leave Hogwarts, in order to chase down the multitude of threats. I'm none too pleased to be leaving here, so at the moment I'd like to enjoy my home for a while longer." Harry smiled slowly and sat down, straddling Severus and forcing the other man to set the book aside.

"Can't argue with that," Harry said easily before leaning down for a kiss.

* * *

The next day another meeting was called, as everyone had been up late reading and did not need another week before forming thoughts and opinions. Lucious and Sirius were excellent strategists, and though they despised being forced to work together, they quickly and readily formed a plan of 'attack'.

"We will retake the ministry, first," Lucious said in a tone that brooked no argument. "We cannot help the rest of the world until our own home is in order, and our first prerogative must be to ensure a stable societal structure and government." Sirius grimaced, but nodded agreement.

"I suggest that, until the crisis has passed, we form a ruling council rather than elect a minister." He added, as though challenging Lucious to disagree.

"Excellent point. We will need at least some, if not all, of the original order members on the council, in order to coordinate war efforts and keep the others in check. It will help to have a ruling body which is fully informed of current events." Sirius nodded with evident dissatisfaction, obviously wishing the Lucious had quibbled at least a little bit.

"You, you, and you, I think you will do well sitting on the council. Now, as far as overtaking the ministry…" The conversation continued, but Harry tuned out, unable to keep his mind focused. His thoughts kept returning to northern England, wondering what could possibly cause such a large mystery. More than anything, he wanted to go there to see for himself, but he held back, uncertain. He brooded over this until he heard Severus speak for the first time, suddenly rejoining the conversation with intense focus at the other mans words.

"Potter and a small contingent, including myself, will be going north. You will need to find someone else for that position, Lucious." Harrys eyes snapped to Severus, unable to comprehend the situation. Had the other man just said they were going north? Why would he suggest that, knowing it was most likely the worst and most dangerous place they could go?

"Potter?"

"Harry?"

"Harry—no!"

Harry turned to the room to see eyes full of concern and confusion looking back at him.

"Well," he began, thinking it through and choosing his words carefully. "The greatest mystery and perhaps danger lies north. If the rest of you focus on what's going on here, we might be able to figure out what's going on up there. Who knows? Maybe whatever is out there holds the key, at least to our problems. But we won't know until we look."

"But _you_ can't go!" Mrs. Weasly declared firmly, her fear for him showing on her face.

"I can, and I will. The prophecy named me the Chosen One to defeat Voldemort. Well, I've done that. I'm no longer special or unique; I don't need to be protected so that I can one day do that deed. I'm an adult and I volunteer for this. Besides, I set this in motion. Maybe I can right it somehow." Several of the men and women around the room nodded, several in understanding and others thoughtfully. Most, however, couldn't look past the boy they had all grown accustomed to protecting, to see the man beneath.

"Hermione and I are with Harry," Draco declared, which set off a new discussion as everyone declared their intention to go with him and began to argue over who would go. Harry stood from the table, causing a sudden silence as all eyes turned once more to him. Severus stood as well, eyes never actually looking at Harry.

"Draco and Hermione will be with us, making our party four. I will allow five others, bringing the total to nine, and I will let you decide who that will include. Don't take too long though, we leave two days from now, at dawn."

With that, he turned and left.

"A bit of a dramatic exit, wasn't it, Potter?" Snape taunted as they walked through the corridors.

"What happened to you calling me Harry?" the younger man muttered, before flashing Severus a grin. Several moments passed quietly as they walked, and when he spoke again it was with a great deal of seriousness. "I've felt…compelled to go north, ever since I read about the phenomenon." Severus nodded, but didn't speak, and soon Harry continued. "I felt torn between what I thought of as where I should be—here—and where I wanted to be. When you said we were going…why did you say that, anyway?"

"You're not the only one feeling compelled, Potter. And I _am_ perishing sick of being in this castle. It's about time I left, anyway. What better place to go than to the most mysterious?"

Harry nodded, too lost in thought to notice that Severus had just admitted to wanting a holiday, being curious past the point of sense, and feeling compelled to do something reckless.

They were going north.

* * *

A/N: Sorry it's so short, I'm utterly exhausted. YES HELLO I AM BACK, I hope you can all forgive me for the nearly two years this story has been on hiatus. I am officially taking it off hiaitus, but you should all know that it could be up to three months between chapters. I'm sorry for that, but it's a time of great change for me even though I do see a settling down of the craziness on the horizon. In the past year I have moved twice, gotten myself an eventual-husband, changed jobs three times, and gone back to school. It has been madness. I am so, so sorry for leaving you waiting, and if you forgive me, please leave a review to let me know you forgive me! The good news is, I have gotten the rest of the plot outlined and know pretty much what will happen from here through the end, so it should be relatively easy to push out chapters as long as I can find the time. I will be updating Invictus and To Tame the Hearts of men back and forth, so if you still need your daily Snarry you'll probably find it between the two of them.  
Much love,

Cozy


	4. Chapter 4: North

A/N: I've had a few people point out certain mistakes (like apostrophes, which I'm notorious for), in my writing, and I'd like to respond to that: I'm doing this for fun. True, I take writing and correct grammar and spelling seriously—in my original work. But guys, this is fanfiction. Nothing about this is legit or publishable. I'm writing this for myself and for anyone else who cares to read it. I don't beta any of my fanfiction; I write it, read over it once to make sure it flows alright and there isn't a horrendous error, then I put it on a website. I try to keep it as mistake-free as possible because I think that too many mistakes will ruin the story, but I honestly think you can mentally substitute the apostrophe where it needs to go—my Word document that I write this in doesn't recognize words like Snape and Hermione and they're always underlined in red, anyway. I'm telling a story here, not trying to win a prize or get published, so naturally I'm not going to expend as much effort on something I see as a small-time, amusing hobby. I'm sorry if that upsets you, or the lack of correct apostrophes is just unacceptable for you, but like I said; I'm mostly writing this for myself. Don't like, don't read.

Also, for the anon who commented, English is my first language; I just don't take fanfiction as seriously as you.

* * *

Chapter Four: North_  
And in the time when the peace of islands_  
_Was first by human hand disturbed_  
_They built their houses and they said obedience_  
_Was all the lives of men were worth_  
_And in the shadow of their temperance_  
_They laid boundaries in the dirt_  
_And where the door had a narrow entrance_  
_With their hands on their shirts they would pray for the non-believers_

_And there's a place called North  
And they're gathering there to sing  
And I knock three times and beg them  
But they will not let me in_

Two mornings later the sun rose in the east on a small party of nine at the edge of Hogwarts grounds. Harry, Severus, Hermione, and Draco were joined by Remus, Hagrid, Charlie, Luna, and, surprisingly, Ron Weasley. Harry had, at first, been against the inclusion of Ron, but when he moved to protest, the other young man had hurriedly taken him aside.  
"Look, I messed up." He began as Harry crossed his arms and frowned. "I did, I'll admit it. But I'd like another chance—to get to know you, and everyone else here. I feel like I missed one of the biggest opportunities of my life, and I'd like to change that, if you'll let me." Ron looked into Harrys eyes with a new sort of steadiness, and after a very long, considering pause, Harry nodded silently. The two of them returned to the group, with Harry waving off the others questioning looks.

"Who's going to continue the paper while you're gone, Luna?" Hermione asked, tactfully changing the subject from the unspoken dislike of their newest member. Luna beamed.

"Professor Flitwick has promised to take over until I return," she explained, causing the rest of them to chuckle at the image of the small man awash in papers.

Many others had wanted to join them, but they were all needed here and there was no knowing how long the journey would last, so when everyone had settled down, Harry spoke.

"Right," Harry said when everyone had gathered, uncomfortable with the unspoken leadership he now had over people who were mainly his elders. "Derby is the farthest north that we've had word from, so we'll be apparating just west of there, on the outskirts of a small wizard community. If you need to look at the map to get oriented, I have it here." He proffered the map, and the younger wizards of the group crowded around it until everyone had a good idea of where they were going. The older wizards apparently already knew the place well enough, and within a few minutes they were all ready to go.

"The most important thing we can do is stick together. The creatures and entities that have been set loose on the world will seek us out when we are alone, weak, and vulnerable, so it is important for us to stick together, even when we sleep." The couples in the group didn't seem to like this news, but they nodded along with everyone else as Harry spoke.

"Right, lets go." He said when there was no other response. And go they did.

* * *

Their arrival and short stay at the small wizarding community west of Derby had been almost pleasant, but that had been the last pleasant thing.

After the first day and night in Derby collecting information, they had traveled north on the good word of most of the talkative villagers, having been assured that to the north they would find a village that might know more of the strange occurrences. There had been a lot of spitting and ancient ward signs used when speaking about what was going on to the north, but the group had pressed on with optimism, feeling that they were headed in the right direction.

The promised village turned out to be much farther away than expected, and since they weren't as familiar with the terrain and the place wasn't on the map, they had been forced to walk. They had spent only one night in the open, but that single night had been enough to impress all of them with the seriousness and danger of the mission.

It began with the wards. Having the most experience, Severus and Remus had walked the circle around their camp near sunset, setting the wards and inverting the weaves so the magical trace would not be discernible. The others spent the time setting up tents and starting a fire, but about halfway through they stopped when they heard a blood curdling scream. Racing, all eight of them managed to arrive at the place a hundred yards away where they found Remus on the ground, unconscious.

Severus had instantly taken the lead here, scooping Remus up and striding towards the middle of camp, calling to Harry.

"Bring my satchel of potions, and be quick about it! You, Granger, finish the wards," he snapped, laying Remus down on a cot that Luna had the foresight to bring out. Hermione had gulped before rushing off to do as he said, and Harry came running with the satchel a second later.

"What could of happened?" Harry asked worriedly, looking down at his unconscious almost-godfather.

"If I knew, he wouldn't still be unconscious," Severus growled, feeling the other mans pulse. "Too fast," he muttered to himself as the others gathered around, watching fearfully. Harry suddenly realized how fortunate it was to have Severus along; not just for his own peace of mind, but because as a potions master and a spy, the man might as well be a healer. Snape dug through his satchel until he found the vial he was looking for, but he hesitated to use it and instead handed it to Harry, telling him to hold it.

Lupin was still breathing, but his breath was shallow and his heart rate too fast, Snape would have to do something immediately before the situation became dire. He removed the other mans shoes, asking Hermione and Harry to stand to either side of Remus and for the others to back away.

"I need you to take hold of his hands, with your thumb and forefinger gripping the meaty part to either side, just back from the web between his thumb and forefinger." He ordered, gripping Remus Achilles tendons between his own thumb and forefinger of both hands. Before he began, however, he muttered a curse and gestured once more to his satchel. Ron, who happened to be closest, picked it up as Snape directed him to the vial that looked like vapor.

"Open it upside down over his chest, and be quick about it," the man urged, growling when Ron fumbled the first attempt. Finally, the young man managed to do what had been asked, and the group gasped as one when the vapor poured out to cover the unconscious mans body, showing a complex system of lines running over and under one another about an inch above the skin.

"What is that?" Hermione couldn't help asking, and Snape rolled his eyes.

"Meridian lines. Look, do you see the knots here, and here?" he asked, pointing to Lupins chest and head, where several small knots of the lines had formed. Hermione nodded, but no one looked enlightened.

"They are lines of energy, of spirit or motion or whatever you'd like to call them. The Japanese call it ki, the Chinese; chi, but it's all the same. His have been tangled, here, here, and here, which cause a physical disruption such as blindness, unconsciousness, fast heart rate and perhaps lack of sensitivity to the skin. If we can untangle them, we may not need to use the potion. If we do end up using the potion…I fear it may not work, or could cause great harm." Harry and Hermione both looked more determined, taking up Remus' hands again in the position they had been told.

"Now," Severus continued, "Harry and I will both press down at the exact same time. Harry pressing the left hand, and I pressing the right ankle." He counted down, and both of them pressed the desired spot, hard. The knot nearest to Lupins ears loosened, and the unconscious man twitched, as though he could hear once more. "Miss Granger, now, the right…one…two…three!" Hermione and Snape pressed down, and the knots near the other mans eyes straightened back to their place, the eyes now moving under the eyelids as though he dreamed.

Snape frowned at the knot near Lupins heart before rolling the man gently over onto his stomach, ensuring the other man could breath. This time, alone, he pressed simultaneously into a spot directly under the left shoulder blade and the right ear, causing Lupin to gasp loudly. When Severus rolled him over, however, the man was still unconscious. Looking carefully, Snape saw there was one more knot, a small one, directly above the groin.

"Merlin," Snape muttered, guessing how that might feel, even to an unconscious man. He directed Harry and Hermione to Lupins legs, showing them precisely where to place their fingertips behind the knees, while he moved around the cot to place his thumbs into the hollows of the other mans collar bone. "All at the same time, now…one…two…three!" And again, they all pressed the correct spots, and though the knot realigned itself and Lupins breathing regulated, the man did not wake.

Harry eyed the meridian lines worriedly, looking for another knot, but there was none.

"Why won't he wake?" he asked, looking at Severus in fear. The older man sighed, rubbing his head.

"I can only guess, Harry."

"So guess," Harry said, taking Lupins hand and squeezing.

"Something tangled his lines, and although you may not know it, that's no small feat. I couldn't do it, and if the Dark Lord had been able to, surely he would have done it. It's painful…very painful, both physically and spiritually. It takes dark magic, or something from the other side, to be able to effect those lines." Harry glanced worriedly between Severus and Lupin, asking a question. "It is my guess that, since there seem to be no dark wizards capable of this in the vicinity, Remus was touched in some way by something beyond the veil."

"So what does that mean?" Ron asked, agitated at the slow response. Severus shot him a glare that made him wilt, but for once Harry agreed with the other boy.

"It means that, while we've aligned his meridian lines, he may yet be caught—mentally or spiritually—in a type of limbo between here, the waking world, and there, the world of the dead." Harrys eyes widened.

"We can't just leave him like this!" he exclaimed, looking frantically around him as though a solution might present itself.

"We can't do much for him, now. It's a struggle he will have to face on his own. All we can do is make him comfortable, and keep him from sleeping again for at least 12 hours when and if he wakes up." Harry did not look ready to accept this, but no matter what wild idea he thought of, he knew Severus was right.

"Lets make him comfortable then," he said dully after several minutes, pulling a blanket up and over the man and sitting down beside him. It was all his fault, he knew, heading off into certain danger and letting others come along. Hermione and Draco had long since disabused him of the notion that he was responsible for the choices of others, but every time something like this happened it was hard for him to remember that. His inability to do anything frustrated him, and he decided to sit vigil while the others—subdued—went about finishing the set up of the camp.

No one spoke much, and although several of the group sat with Harry beside Remus' bed from time to time, everyone also seemed to recognize that he wanted some time alone, and left him to it. When the others had gone to bed and the campfire burned low, Harry was still sitting next to the cot, which they had moved into Remus' tent. At the movement of the flap, Harry started, only barely recognizing Hagrid before returning his wand to his pocket.

"He'll wake up, ye know," the half-giant said, sitting beside Harry in a chair that was far too small for him. Hagrid grimaced as the chair made protesting sounds, threatening to collapse, before moving to the floor to sit with his legs stretched out in front of him. Even sitting on the floor, the man's head easily cleared the cot and came level with Harrys. "He's a fighter, obviously, and he has more'n a few things to live fer, to boot," Hagrid went on. Harry nodded numbly, but his mood wasn't improved by the pep talk. "Whas' more though," Hagrid said, poking Harry in the side and finally getting the boys full attention, "He's a werewolf. An' I doubt that anything pulling at him from the other side reckoned on that. See, werewolfs already have one foot through the veil, since every full moon they go beyond human and become something…darker." Harry was looking at his old Care of Magical Creatures professor now, completely engrossed in the new idea that Remus would be fine _because_ he was already half dark by nature. It had never occurred to him, honestly.

Seeing that he now had the younger mans full attention, Hagrid went on with a smile. "See, I reckon this man knows an awful lot about resisting them dark temptations, and he might possibly be the best person to deal with this thing, as he spends a lot 'o time once a month remembering how to get back to his real self. So even if he's lost out there in that great big dark, he's probably the only one o' us who knows how in blazes to get back." Harry stared at the man, dumbfounded, until a slow smile spread across his face.

"You know Hagrid, I think you might be right," He finally said with new optimism. Hagrid only frowned.

"Well of course I am! Aint nobody know more about magical creatures than I do, and that werewolf there is a magical creature alright!" The other man managed to look affronted at the very notion that he could be wrong, and Harrys smile broadened. "Now Harry, I know now might not be the time for it, but I think you ought to explain ter me this here Snape business," Harry looked suddenly embarrassed, and looked away without answering until he had composed himself while Hagrid waited patiently.

"I know it's a bit mad, but…well, I love him, Hagrid, and I don't want to be without him." Although he was blushing madly, he managed to say this with confidence while looking into Hagrids eyes, trying to convey how serious he was. Hagrid scratched his chin.

"Just never expected it, you know, and the irony of it is enough ter make me think it's some kind o' joke," he said finally, putting forth a mollifying had to quell Harrys response. "But I of all people know ye can't help how ye feel—look at me mum and dad!—so I guess, as long as he treats you right, I don't see a problem." Harry felt a warm rush of gratitude at the half-giants words, never realizing how much he had wanted his approval. He smiled happily.

"Oh, he is," He said simply, and Hagrid nodded, seeming appeased and content to let the matter drop, as though that was all that really mattered.

After an hour or so with very little talk, the big man finally spoke. "Why don't you get on then, to your tent with Snape. I'll look after Remus here," he said, waving. Harry visibly wavered, not wanting to leave his vigil but wanting the comfort that sleeping next to Severus would bring him. Hagrid smiled. "Don't ye worry, now, I'll call ye if anything changes, even the slightest thing," he assured the younger man, and Harry finally agreed and left, thanking Hagrid silently with a touch on his shoulder as he went by.

Hagrid moved so he was sitting on the floor where Harry had been sitting on the chair, looking down at the unconscious man with a frown.

"C'mon ye great big ol werewolf, you've got that boy counting on ye and I won't have ye make me a liar," He muttered to the man on the cot, who gave no indication of hearing. Sighing, Hagrid settled in to wait.

* * *

_Dark, so dark, spots of light and shadow were worse than all-encompassing darkness because the shadows looked to be moving and the light somehow seemed sinister._

_He was at home, standing with silent tears on his cheeks while his father raged at him for being a wolf-like freak. _

_The flashes of memory were more disquieting than the shifting shadows, because they almost seemed to be forced, externally, into his mind._

_Sirius, always Sirius. The other man looked at him as they lay, naked and panting, on the grass the morning after the last full moon. From this almost external memory, Remus saw the flash of desire he had missed the first time in the other's eyes. The sight was enough to shock him back into his own self—at least, back into the shadow land. _

_He had loved Sirius, with his impetuous grin and reckless courage, since as long as he could remember. But of course it was imperative to keep the wolf from the ones he loved most. Sometimes the desire that rose in him was so dark and so violent, all he could do was shudder in fear and shame until the moment passed, the wolf inside him quieted and grumbling somewhere low and still once more._

_The shadows moved, and he shifted uneasily. He didn't have a body in this strange place, but if he thought himself into moving, he would move. Before he could get far, before he could find his way back to his body, another memory attacked him._

''_You're leaving," Sirius was standing in his doorway, looking more serious than he had ever seen him._

"_One of us has to watch Harrys back," Lupin had responded lightly, wishing the other man were not so close to him, not so close that he could smell him and all the intoxicating parts of his day._

"_I don't want you to leave," Sirius said selfishly, and Remus had turned to him in surprise._

"_Whyever not? Someone must go with Harry besides school-aged friends and…"_

"_And SNAPE!" Sirius spat, unable to control his ire. _

"_Will you ever get over your hatred of that man?" Remus wondered idly, packing a shirt neatly in his pack._

"_It's not so much that, Moony!" Sirius wailed, sitting uninvited on the bed. "He just…TOLD us, along with everyone, like we weren't the closest thing he has to family! And then they both just announce that they're leaving!" Remus allowed himself to reach out and stroke the other mans hair, quelling the desire that rose in him like something savage at such a small gesture._

"_I know, that was poor taste. But it's done, and I'm not going to leave him on his own out there just because he failed to clue us in, first. I'm going, Sirius. And you're needed here." Sirius had looked at him for a long moment before standing, all too close to the wolf that wanted to tear him apart. _

_For a moment, he hesitated, then bent slightly and kissed Remus on the corner of his mouth. Too startled to move, he had stayed still, afraid. Sirius had gripped the back on his neck and his whole body had stiffened as he tried to crush the desire to wrap his arms around the other man and take him right there on the bed. Sirius leaned forward and rested his forehead against the side of his head, brushing the shell of his ear with his lips._

"_Come back,"_

_Come back_

_Remus was once again in this shadow land, but when the next memory threatened to attack he fortified himself and fought it off. He'd never leave this place if he just sat here watching his own memories as though he was an observer, not a participant. It took energy to fight it off, and soon there was another, and another._

_Come back_

_Between attacks, he was able to work on the grounding exercises he had learned from a lifetime of being a werewolf. He first imagined his own human form, in every detail and with each sensory. He held the image firmly in his mind and worked, between attacks, to meld his now-self to his body-self, consciously and purposefully slipping into his image of his body inch by inch. _

_Come back_

_Something was resisting his efforts, and it felt almost as though he was imposing his true-self into his werewolf-self at the height of the full moon, which is impossible to do. Something occupied his physical body, but it wasn't the wolf and it wasn't his self. _

_Come back_

_He gritted his imaginary teeth and _pushed_, forcing whatever was in his body out, inch by inch._

…_back_

_He opened his eyes to blinding light, and knew no more._

* * *

"REMUS!" Harry bellowed, stopping the march of his companions and falling to his knees beside the cot, which had been suspended in the air between Hagrid and himself. It was midday, and they had been awake and walking north for two hours, after having decided that Remus was safe to transport. The others gathered around now as Harry took the mans hand and leaned forward to hear the words Lupin was muttering.

"Bright…so bright…" Harry immediately discerned the problem and conjured shade in the form of a large canopy. Remus visibly eased, sitting with Harrys assistance and blinking rapidly.

"Harry," Remus said, recognizing the boy and smiling wryly. He looked up to see that everyone else had gathered around, and most of them were grinning fit to split themselves. Severus, of course, was not grinning, but his eyes were softer and a small smile was tugging his lips.

"Glad to see you could join us," Snape drawled. Ron spun on him, looking angry.

"Is that all you can say? He nearly died!" Harry left Lupins side hurriedly to quell the impending argument as Snapes face clouded over.

"Ron." He stated, putting a hand on the young mans shoulder and looking at Severus pleadingly. "Severus isn't prone to extreme bouts of displayed emotion, as you may have noticed over the years. For him, that was as good as a hug," He said, looking at Ron with a firm set to his jaw. The young man stared back, eyes flicking between Harry and Severus, before he nodded.

"Right," he said, sucking in a breath. He turned to Snape and looked him steadily in the eye, not blinking. "I'm sorry for that." Severus stared at him until he found what he was looking for, then nodded.

"Apology accepted." The other man said, and Harry sighed in relief, returning to Remus.

"What happened? How do you feel? Do you need to rest?" He asked, feeling the other mans forehead in a half-understood attempt to discern his state of health. Lupin laughed and waved him off.

"I'm fine Harry. In fact, I feel a bit energetic, now that my eyes have adjusted." He stood up from the cot and stretched, enjoying the feel of his own body and the strength in his bones.

"But, what happened?" Harry asked, bewildered at the switch from catatonic-Lupin to energized-Lupin.

"Well, I was setting the wards when something lashed out at me. Don't ask me what it was, I don't know, it came at me from behind. All I remember after that is a rending pain, and then I was beyond the veil, somewhere dark and, quite honestly, terrifying." Severus nodded, coming closer to listen as Harry stared at Remus wide-eyed.

"What happened then? How'd you come back?"

_Come back…_

Remus smiled fondly, but the look didn't seem to be directed at Harry. "There was something occupying my body. I was able to slowly force it out, and here I am," he said quietly. Harry was satisfied with this explination, and hugged his almost-godfather as Remus looked over the boys head into the steady eyes of Severus Snape. The two men nodded slowly to one another before breaking eye contact, and Snape moved away as the others crowded around.

They would talk later, in detail, away from the others hearing.

* * *

_I live at the end of a five and a half minute hallway_

_And as far as I can see, you are still miles from me_

_In your doorway_

* * *

_A/N: _Review?


	5. Chapter 5: Hampshire

A/N: As I may have mentioned to some of you personally, I have decided to complete Invictus before continuing To Tame the Hearts of Men. This is mostly due to the fact that, with how often I feel like writing, it is difficult for me to go back and forth between two different stories and pick up the thread. After updating back and forth between the two earlier this month I was forced to go back and re-read Invictus all over again from the beginning to remember what had and hadn't happened, as I was mixing it up with TTtHoM. So, here's to the completion of Invictus!

* * *

_but the eyes of his children _

_were so bitterly burned _

_that i could not stand to look at them _

_when he finally came to visit me _

_he was dressed in the rags of poverty _

_and it came as no surpass _

_it came as no surprise_

Chapter Five: Hampshire

Their first sight of the promised town came at dusk, and Snape called a halt of their party. Harry was baffled.

"But, there's a town right there," he protested, pointing into the distance. Severus just gave him an unfathomable look.

"Potter, I'll forgive your ignorance because you have never been walking around wizarding Britain during times of great fear," he said finally, and Remus—of all things!—nodded in agreement.

"Not only that, Harry, but most towns don't have the kind of protections that larger establishments have, and they are frequently afflicted by shades and specters in the night. It would be wrong of us to go knocking on their doors after dark, and they would instantly perceive us as a threat, not to be trusted." Harry looked at Remus with disbelief, but this seemed to be something that most wizards knew, as the others were nodding agreement.

"Alright," he said, miffed, before he turned to helping set up camp. As dusk fully turned to night, the party found themselves sitting around a roaring fire and talking.

"I wish we had some marshmallows," Harry sighed, peeling bark off of a stick. Hermione nodded in agreement, but the rest of the group looked baffled.

"Marsh…mellows?" Charlie asked, trying out the word.

"Yes, they're nice little creatures that live in marshes and have a calming effect on their immediate surroundings, which can sometimes be a trap used by a predator, which uses the marsh-mellows talent to mask his presence," Luna said matter-of-factly, and Harry and Hermione could only stare, flabbergasted.

"Assuming this creature does exist, why would Harry want one?" Severus inquired, and Luna beamed.

"I was going to ask the same!" she exclaimed, seeming pleased that she and Snape had thought of the same question.

"I—we—but—" Harry was spluttering as Hermione collapsed against Draco in a fit of giggles.

"I never heard o' that," Hagrid grumbled, irritable that there was a creature he hadn't heard of. Hermione giggled louder as Luna winked at her, no one else having noticed the subtle flick of an eyelid.

"Luna, are you tricking them again?" Charlie asked, finally catching on to his lovers game.

"No, of course not!" Luna answered, giving his suspicious stare a look of wide eyed innocence.

"Marshmallows are _food!_" Harry finally exclaimed, causing everyone to turn and look at him. "They're little white sugary things that you put in a fire for a bit before eating. The outside is supposed to get brown and crunchy while the inside gets all melty. They're delicious!" Everyone stared at him for a second before Luna responded.

"Harry how could you _eat_ the poor creatures?!" And at her mockingly horrified look, everyone dissolved into laughter.

"So, there isn't a creature called a marshmallow?" Ron asked, clarifying. "It's a muggle sweet of some sort?" Hermione nodded at him between her hiccups, which had sprung to life during her fit of laughter. A slow grin spread across his face as he joined the laughter, and for once Ron was included in the warmth that grew around Harry Potter.

* * *

"So, tell me," Severus said later, sitting down in a chair placed beside Lupins tent after the others had gone to sleep. Remus sighed, sitting as well.

"I don't have much to add, really. I was beyond the veil, and something had taken control of my body. I had to force it out." He looked down at his hands, remembering.

"Details, please, from the beginning." Severus insisted, and Remus sighed again.

"Some of the details are _personal_, Severus. I was…almost attacked, by my own memories. If I had allowed it to continue, I wouldn't have had the focus to come back."

"Memories…" Snape muttered.

"Personal memories? Like you and Sirius?" Harry asked, walking over to the two startled men from where he had been sitting behind a rock, looking at the stars.

"Harry, how do you—" Remus stuttered, unable to form a coherent sentence in the face of his very private longings being voiced so easily by this boy-child.

"Oh, it's obvious, you know, how you feel about each other," Harry said offhand, sitting down on the ground and stretching his legs in front of him. "You two weren't having a secret meeting about the recent events without me, were you? Of course, you intended to include me, it just slipped your mind." He looked sternly at the other two men, and while Remus was still reeling from this new information, Severus looked back at him steadily.

"I won't apologize, Potter," he said stiffly, and Harrys face softened.

"There's no need. Just please include me next time," he said softly, and the other man nodded once.

"Harry, whatever makes you think that Sirius and I—" Remus tried again, but cut himself off at a look from Harry that was almost patronizing.

"I thought about it for a while. It was actually your example that helped me in my…persistence…with Severus. I don't know why you guys choose to hide your relationship, but…" Harry trailed off and shrugged. Lupin just gaped at him.

"Harry…Sirius and I are _friends_. I may…I may feel more for him, but…" He trailed off, shaking his head, and Harry felt a flash of understanding rock through him. He put a hand on the man's knee, causing Remus to look up from his hands with strained eyes.

"Remus…I've seen the looks Sirius give you. If you were under the impression that your feelings were once sided, you were wrong," the man shook his head in mute denial at Harrys words.

"I honestly thought it was rather sickening, how obviously hang-dog Black looks whenever you brush his hands away from you, following after you like a stray hound…" Severus supplied, smirking at Remus when the other man glared. Harry frowned at his lover, but he couldn't help the smile that tugged at the edges of his lips.

"Either way, it's not possible for us to be together," Remus said stiffly, and Harry looked shocked.

"Whyever not?" Severus asked, stealing the question from Harrys mouth.

"The wolf…it…this is not something I'm prepared to discuss." Remus said, firming up and looking at them both defiantly. Harry shrugged.

"Containing your inner wolf sounds more like an excuse, Remus." He said firmly. "Besides, Severus will make you the wolfsbain potion, won't you?" He directed the last at Snape, who nodded. Remus sighed with exasperation.

"It's not the full moon I'm worried about, Harry! That wolf is a part of me, waking or sleeping, full moon or new. And it shares my emotions…have you ever seen how a werewolfs mate?" the sickness of his shame, guilt, and pain was apparent on his face as he looked between the two men, not wanting to have this conversation but finding some relief in it anyway.

"You wouldn't hurt Sirius," Harry said blithely, although he was not in fact aware of werewolf mating techniques.

"You don't _know that!_" Remus exploded, standing up to pace. Severus stood with him and intercepted him, grabbing the other man by his shoulders.

"I suggest you give Black the chance to make his own choices, wolf. Nothing comes from attempting to protect them by staying away."

"Know that from experience, do you?" Remus snapped, but Severus just looked back at him steadily, eyes flickering for a moment to rest on Harry.

"Yes."

At this, all the fight seemed to go out of Remus as the other man sank heavily into the chair he had been occupying, looking between Harry and Snape suspiciously as though they had maneuvered him here.

"I will take your words under advisement." He said tersely. "Regardless, that is not what we came here to discuss."

The other two seemed content to let the matter drop, but before Remus could continue his tale, a rending scream split the air, followed by more. And it was coming from the village to their north. Harry was on his feet instantly and dashing away, followed almost immediately by the other two men and soon, the entire camp.

* * *

Fire. Fire and blackness and shadows, screams and howls and inhuman noises never meant to come from a human mouth. He couldn't see much, only watch as the boy went rushing on ahead of him, never getting too far away. When the boy finally stopped, he took his time to assess the destruction around them. There was fire everywhere, and in the shadows was something darker than shadow, though he could not place it. The people of the village seem to have gone mad. No one was paying attention as Severus and the rest of the group stopped in the center of the square, they were all too busy with other things.

Severus watched as a little girl gnawed on the leg of what looked like her mother, eyes wide and void of any emotion as the blood seeped between her teeth and lips. The mother didn't seem to notice as she stood there, dragging her nails again and again down her own face, eyes vapid and wide as well. People were setting fires to their own houses, slaughtering livestock and murdering each other brutally. It was sheer madness, nothing made sense.

He watched as a man casually slipped a long knife between the ribs of another, smiling and patting the man as he stumbled back and fell, bleeding.

"They're killing each other!" Harry shuddered, listening to the inhuman noises from the inhuman beings all around them.

"We should leave," Severus said, putting a hand on Harrys shoulder. The boy spun around, eyes panicked and wild.

"We need to help them!" He shouted, shocked and shaking.

"They are beyond our help, caught in the grip of something evil. We should leave before we are caught as well." Harrys jaw set and he looked like he was going to argue when a more human scream split the air.

"_No!" _Luna screamed, grabbing as grasping for some part of Charlie as the struggling wizard was dragged slowly away by a group of smiling, hollow eyed men. The others rushed to help, spells flying, but the spells bounced off the skin of these strange creatures and they were afraid to hit Charlie with a direct one. Charlie, too, was firing off spells, but his seemed to have no effect either as Luna screamed and threw herself forward, clutching the leg of his trousers.

Severus stepped forward; pushing the others aside and attempting an unforgiveable, but those bounced off as well and only seemed to enrage the human-not-human beasts. They were tearing into him now, some with their teeth and others with hands. Charlies screams split the air as they began, dirty fingernails puncturing firm flesh and ripping with abandon, teeth gouging, tongues licking, eyes void and smiling. They weren't eating him, merely…opening him.

Luna had collapsed in tears into Hermiones arms when they ripped her hand from his leg, but as Charlies screams split the air her head tilted down, tears drying.

"No," a deep voice—surely not her voice—emitted from her throat, and she stood without Hermiones help. Hermione gulped as the other girl looked at her, for Lunas eyes were shards of ice, the whites of her eyes crystallized and fading into a brilliant and deep blue towards the middle. It was almost as though her eyes had been replaced with ice, actual ice, but the girl still seemed to be able to see. Hermione hung back as the other woman walked forward to the head of their group, dropping her wand and kneeling.

Her hands touched the earth, head bowed over them as though praying, before she spoke.

"You will all die," she said in that deep, disturbing voice. No one tried to stop her, but three members of the group instantly and soundlessly threw up the strongest defense they knew to surround their group, afraid. Harry took Hermiones hand, placing his other on Rons shoulder as Hermione grabbed Dracos. Without asking, he added their strength to his, strengthening the shield with a burst of will and power. A blinding white light flashed from Luna, leaving everyone blind as a sound like thunder issued from her vicinity. In a moment of fear and concern, Harry reached towards Luna with his mind, wanting to protect her as well. Harry didn't have a chance to see if their shield had worked; the instant the sound hit his ears, he fell unconscious.

* * *

Everything hurt. Every smallest part of his body and mind hurt. He imagined that his pancreas even hurt. Tiny pinpricks of pain radiated from all parts of his body and the soreness in his muscles twitched and danced with fire at even the smallest movement.

He tried to groan, unable to move, and his vocal chords lit on fire with their use, making him feel like he was trying to swallow heat. And he hadn't even made a sound; his groan had never actually issued from his mouth.

"Harry?" a voice said over him, sounding worried. He cracked his eyes a millimeter, grimacing at the light, although he appeared to be inside a tent. His senses began to return, supplanting the fire, and he could sense that everyone was crowded around where he lay, in the bed. He tried to ask what had happened, but his voice still wouldn't work. Frustrated, he tried to sit up, but steady hands held him down where he lay.

"We're not sure, Harry," Severus said quietly. "Luna seems to be okay, just tired and heartsick. Charlies dead, but none of our own were otherwise hurt. The village…the village, and the people, are gone."

"Completely gone, not a trace," Hermione said, a tinge of fear and wonder creeping into her voice. Harrys vision was returning, and he looked at them all quizzically.

"We don't have the answers, we can only guess," Remus said, and Harrys eyes snapped to him.

"What we _think_ happened," Draco continued,

"Is that something was able to possess Luna and act on her vengeful love, and destroy the village and the people." Ron finished, causing Draco to glare at him, but only half-heartedly.

"I felt you reaching towards her," Severus said, again quietly. "I don't know what you did, exactly, but together we managed to protect everyone…including Luna, whose rage at Charlies death surely would have included us in the blast." He sighed, looking down at Harry. "But it seems you managed to protect her and throw the vengeful spirit out of her, as well."

Harry tried to speak again, but he couldn't. Since feeling had returned to most of his body and he didn't feel so much pain, he sat up and gestured frantically at his throat. Severus frowned, looking at Harry and muttering a diagnostic spell.

"He can't speak," the man said with disbelief.

"Oh, _Harry!"_ Hermione said sorrowfully, grabbing his hand and squeezing. Harry looked baffled, but looked at Severus and opened a mental link with occluency.

_I swallowed it. I swallowed the ice spirit of revenge and love, whatever it was. In that last moment, when it lashed out at everything nearby, I held onto our shields and protected everyone…but I also swallowed the spirit. And now it's gone._

Severus stared at Harry, thinking, not sharing with the others what had been said.

_Perhaps, Harry, with your distinctive link to death—and thus, the other side of the veil—you were able to act as a sort of conductor or conduit, forcing the spirit from this side to the other. If you had to use your own body to do it…it may have damaged you physically._

_Will I ever be able to speak again? _The panic and fear that tinged the boys voice made Severus sorrowful.

_I don't know_, he admitted.

Harry stared at everyone else for a long moment, looking at them and studying them. Finally, he got up and walked out of the room amid their protests, going to find Luna.

* * *

The young woman sat in the middle of what had once been a village, staring at the ground. She looked up when Harry approached, and watched him with steady, red-rimmed eyes as he sat down with her.

They looked at one another for several long moments, and when tears started building in Lunas eyes she did nothing to brush them away.

"Oh Harry…I'm so _sorry_," She said, looking down. Harry put a hand on her shoulder, and when she looked up, he smiled slightly. It was easy to speak in her mind; she had never learned occlumency.

_I've lost my voice, Luna._ He said, gesturing to his throat so she would know it was him in her mind. For a terrifying moment she looked white and cold, all the small warmth she had going out of her at yet another intrusion of her mind, before she realized who it was.

"I…it's my fault," she said, looking down as more tears rushed down her cheeks.

_No. You felt grief and madness and pain, a thirst for revenge and anger. It is not your fault that a spirit of vengeful love possessed you. It is not your fault for loving him. It is all of us who failed to protect him, but me more than anyone. I rushed in there without a thought. It was me._

Luna looked up at him, unable to voice what she felt.

_I am so, so sorry Luna. _She looked at him for a long moment.

"No," she said, looking back down. "You might have rushed in there, but I was too distracted to even notice they had taken him until it was too late."

Dumbledore had told him something once, long ago, and it came to him now as the answer of fault.

_Do not let others force you to wear their cloak of evil, when the blame lies elsewhere._ He thought, urging her to look at him again. _It's not your fault, nor mine. We may have been more vigilant and less rash, and we will have to deal with that knowledge. But it's the evil that stalks the earth that is at fault. It's the force that possessed those innocent villagers that's to blame._

Luna looked at him with a hope and yearning that was almost painful, and after a moment she fell against him, sobbing.

"I miss him so much," she cried as Harry hugged her.

"I know." He said softly, unable to fathom the pain of losing Severus when even imagining it hurt him too much to bear.

"I know." He murmured, rocking her, stroking her hair, holding her. He didn't know what else to do; it was agony to watch someone suffer so much over something that was impossible to fix.

They sat there for a very long time.

* * *

_If this should end tomorrow_

_All our best laid plans_

_And all our typical fears_

_Am I running out of lifetimes_

_This is not the first time_

_Something ends in just tears_


End file.
